Splinter
by DevilGhostflower
Summary: Eren patches him up after the reckless act of passion, lovingly and with care, kisses every bruise and scratch mark. The recognition of what he's done burns hot in his belly. It's something new, foreign, makes his cheeks flush with slight embarrassment, but in its raw beauty it's anything but a crime.
1. Chapter 1

written for tumblr user eren-yeaqer

beta-read by tumblr user tighteneren

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Desperation and fear go hand in hand, and after it comes to light that Eren is not the only one able to turn into a titan, suspicion starts gnawing at everyone.

What if the scout sitting next to you at breakfast was another traitor, giving away important intel about missions?

They had never seen it coming from maybe Reiner, Bertholdt, or Annie. At this point anyone could actually be a titan in disguise.

That's what they'd become, the shifters, not humans first and foremost and only later titans, but titans in disguise. Loyalties were questioned, desperate measures taken.

The scalpel inching closer and closer to Eren Jaeger's bare chest was one of those desperate measures.

"You have to agree. It'll make you look bad in everyone's eyes if you don't," Levi tells him. He's the one to break the news.

He could do it more tactfully. Instead he just says that Eren will be cut open and dissected, tone flat and no emotion leaking into the lineaments of his face.

Levi places a hand on Eren's back only when he's on the verge of hyperventilating. It does nothing to comfort him. Levi's voice is oddly dull and hollow when he explains exactly why Eren has to go through with this.

"Could you be there when they do it?" It's the only thing he asks of Levi.

The older man agrees, albeit hesitantly. Then he leaves and Eren is alone in his dungeon of a room again with nothing to do.

He still does his chores, sweeps the courtyard and mucks the stables, but his hands are sweaty and stomach lurches every time anyone looks at him.

The day of the experiment arrives slowly and by then Eren just wants to get it over with.

Levi is there, but it doesn't offer Eren the sense of security he had hoped for. Instead it makes anger bubble up in his chest, makes it rise higher and higher as the scalpel inches closer.

Levi is leaning against the wall, scrutinizing the toes of his boots as if the reflections of the bright lights against dark leather are more important than Eren being slowly ripped in half.

Hanji had explained to him that they were looking for anything in his system that differed from a normal human's, something that would hint at abnormalities that would help them figure out if there's anyone else hiding shifter abilities, latent or not.

If it weren't for the excitement making her voice quiver ever so slightly, Eren would've thought she felt genuinely sympathetic, sorry for the situation he was in.

When the anesthesia doesn't work on him (ether, it's called, if he recalls correctly), she doesn't hesitate for long. Instead she provides that the pain will cause sensory overload and eventually his mind will simply block it out, become numb.

The satisfaction of seeing Levi's head jerk and eyes peer up at him, wide and distraught, at the strangled sound that escapes him when the first incision is made doesn't last for long.

He has the ability to heal, yes, very quickly. You'd think it would make it hurt less, instead it turns out that what Hanji had said about the pain eventually fading away because of sensory overload was complete bullshit. It heals just enough for him to feel everything.

Eren doesn't see the T shape incision on his chest, he feels it, careful and precise. Hanji's hands are calm and steady, even as she pushes something that resembles a thin nail through the flaps of skin to pin them down.

The first trickle of blood is scorching hot against his heaving chest. It flows along his collarbone, undisturbed by ragged breathing.

He only actually screams, when his ribcage is broken open, the sound strained as he tries to will it down.

_Shh, Eren, we have to open it to see what's inside_, he doesn't know if Hanji actually says that or if it's just a part of his subconscious borrowing her voice.

His sternum is split and pulled apart. They're careful, really careful, so nothing accidentally punctures his lungs that are now open and unprotected. Eren knows, he can feel the cold air against his insides, it's freezing.

"Pull the straps tighter," she instructs, because Eren's muscles have started to convulse involuntarily, leg jerking and trembling. There's so much happening to him, yet Eren still feels the hard edges of leather metal buckles digging into into his skin.

His vision becomes blurry with tears and he can no longer seek comfort in the tense lines of Levi's shoulders.

Something rubbery is pushed into his mouth and he absent-mindedly hears someone say it's so he won't bite his tongue off, but his ears are ringing from screaming and he doubts it's his tongue they care about.

Eren feels bile rise up and sting the back of his throat because hands are inside of him, circling his intestines and prodding between soft tissue.

The bright light burns his retinas and when he turns his head away from the source of it he sees the door swing shut. Levi's no longer there.

In the end Hanji's right about some things and he blacks out for the rest of the experience, be it from shock or pain, Eren doesn't care. He's glad.

They don't find anything of significance and tears prickle the corners of his eyes again as Hanji tells him that they will probably need to perform the vivisection again. That's what she calls it. Eren couldn't care less, to him it's nothing but sick torture, and now he knows it's going to happen again.

It's going to haunt him – the bright lights, the table with leather straps meant to constrict his arms and legs. So he jerks his arm away from Hanji's comforting squeeze and pretends not to hear her apology, the hurt in her voice that runs deeper than her wrongdoings.

Eren can't protest, can't say anything against it, but he still has the privilege of keeping his mouth shut so he turns on his side, away from Hanji. She lingers in the room for a bit, but doesn't say anything.

It doesn't really hurt, everything has mostly healed by the time he comes to his senses, but his ribs are still carefully wrapped in gauze and it smells of antiseptic.

The smell sticks to his body, seeps into the bedsheets, his nightshirt, and when Levi comes to check up on him Eren watches the man sit on the edge gingerly, aware of what the scent implies all too well.

Eren hopes he looks miserable. He knows that bright white gauze stands out stark against his skin, just a sliver of it visible, a nasty reminder that Levi hadn't been there until the end of it, and just maybe Eren had kicked the duvet off on purpose when he heard footsteps approaching the room.

He bites his tongue and waits for Levi to speak up first, he knows that the older man isn't stupid, he won't ask 'are you okay, how are you feeling?' or anything similar.

"I'm sorry for leaving," he sounds sincere and some satisfaction trickles warm and pleasant into Eren's belly, only to be ripped away with idle anger nipping at his insides because Levi's the one who authorized it. Eren doesn't care if Levi couldn't do anything about it. He still hadn't protested, he hadn't even stayed there like Eren had asked, and he hadn't asked for much.

Eren doesn't say anything and silence settles over them thick and uneasy.

Finally the weight on the bed shifts and Levi rises to leave.

"Stay."

Eren peers at him through lidded eyes, as if to say 'just until I fall asleep,' and Levi complies, as if relieved to hear the boy speak to him. He sinks back down on the bed and this time Eren is more aware of the mattress dipping lower, of the warmth that's just a few centimeters away from his shin.

"It's going to happen again and again, isn't it? And they're not going to find anything," There isn't even the hint of a question in his voice, but Levi still responds.

"And what the fuck do you want me to do it?"

That's exactly what Eren needs – the slightest hint of desperation that gives away that Levi is indeed not indifferent to all this. He sits up slowly, lets his foot drag against Levi's thigh before drawing his knees up.

The shirt folds over the gauze, no longer exposing it, but it's a small loss because now Eren can direct a careful gaze at the older man, one he'd practiced earlier on the stone wall, one that made him look like all fight had left him.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? Is that it? You can slice titans up left and right but when one's in front of you being cut open, you're suddenly weak in the knees?"

His heart is hammers against his chest uncomfortably. If he's not careful enough Levi will simply get up and leave without another word. Levi has no moral or emotional obligation towards him after all, everything depends on how Eren plays this, so he lets the look of hurt twist his face, averts his gaze and fiddles with a stray thread on the duvet.

The bitterness inside of him has turned into an itch. An itch to give back, pay back, and Levi will do just fine.

"Eren," Levi shifts his weight slightly, uncrosses his legs, and Eren knows it's his victory. "You're a human first and foremost and only later a titan. No matter how much our superiors might doubt this, I don't. Nor does anyone else in the Scouting Legion."

And that's exactly what Eren needs to slip himself further underneath Levi's skin.

"You think anyone treats me like a human being? They're afraid to touch me unless it's with a knife, and even that's only because it could provide some knowledge."

The frown on Levi's face deepens and the look he's giving Eren is sharp. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation, thinks it's useless and he's one breath away from telling Eren to grow up and deal with it.

So Eren beats him to it, "You know what they asked me?" He pauses carefully, short enough not to annoy Levi, "If I've ever eaten human flesh."

And it works, a look of surprise graces Levi's face.

The mattress shifts as Eren lets his knees down, slouches his shoulders.

They hadn't really asked him that, but eventually they would, Eren can feel it. He knows well enough how highly they think of him. So Levi would never find out, no harm done.

"And of course I said no, I haven't, but it was so obvious they didn't believe me. With those masses of dead people when I first transformed, there's no way to know. And what I say doesn't matter."

Levi's back is straight as a rod, he doesn't know what to do, Eren's voice cracks and he wants to flee from the room.

"So I start dreaming about it. What if I've really done it?"

The trick to get real, genuine tears streaming down his face is to simply believe the words he's saying, to make them real and immerse himself in the created image. Eren looks up at Levi through wet eyelashes and he can see the man crumbling slowly.

He draws in a shaky breath, lets his eyes linger on Levi for a second longer than needed before rubbing the dampness away.

He doesn't need to fake the slight embarrassment as he continues, "So could you stay? Just for one night. They won't let Armin or Mikasa stay, but if it's you then surely that'll be okay?"

Levi is hesitant, but the guilt of being unable to stay with Eren when he had first asked was still eating at him.

"Fine," he nearly spits out, but Eren flinches and he lets the rest of the frustration out with a sigh, face softening. "I'll stay for as long as you want."

Eren scoots over, his intentions obvious as he pulls the blanket up to his chin, and Levi follows his lead, kicks off his boots and rests against the wall. Eren doesn't force further conversation upon them, simply listens to the calm breathing pattern of his superior, counts how many times his chest rises and falls.

For a moment he feels as if this will be enough to satisfy him, that simply having someone here with him would calm the itch boiling in his veins. Instead he wakes up a few hours later, his cell dark and the sheets next to him cold - Levi's long gone. It's like salt rubbed into a wound and Eren knows this won't be enough. He needs more.


	2. Chapter 2

watch the fuck out some twisted shit up ahead like seriously this is the first and last warning read at your own risk i ain't gonna spoil anything. also i'm tracking fic: splinter on tumblr if you wanna yell at me.

ffnet is going to fuck up my formatting i can feel it

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The sky is of heavy steel as Eren stares up at it. It's going to rain soon. He's supposed to be rushing back before anyone notices his absence, but he doesn't want to go yet.

He turns around and squints his eyes at the darkness ahead of him.

The cave is about 3 meters wide and 5 meters deep, from what he can see. The ceiling is high enough so Eren can manage good 4 long strides before his knees need to bend to get further.

There's something else there, maybe an alcove, or perhaps it branches off even deeper, but it's too dark to see.

It's only a 7 minute walk away from the base so it's likely that he's not the only one who knows about it.

Eren worries his lip between teeth. He'll have to ask around, carefully, to see if anyone else knows. He can't quite put his finger on it, but the feeling of having a place of his own, a safe spot, is appealing. It brings a feeling of tranquility to him as he observes the damp, loamy walls and breathes in the moist air, moss and rainwater on his tongue.

The surface is clean, all molded by nature, and he's itching to see if it would give under his nails as pliant as skin, because it sure looks like it. But the first boom of thunder echoes in the cave and Eren pulls his hand away.

He wipes his palms against his pants and hurries down, branches snapping under his feet. For a second the teen almost loses his balance and has to stop. There's no trail and the layer of slippery pine needles is thick and smooth under his boots.

Eren watches little rocks scuttle down the greenery before they're caught against a protruding root of a tree that's likely older than the headquarters castle.

The fall could be fatal. It's not that high up, the hill isn't too steep, but the rocks and roots reaching out from the ground make it dangerous.

He hurries on and soon there's gravel crunching under his feet and he feels the first droplets of rain – tiny and sharp – pepper his forehead.

Eren gets back to the castle grounds in 4 minutes and expects for Hanji or someone else to be at the entrance, already waiting for him, but it's empty.

He slips into the mess hall right in time for supper and no one bats an eyelash. He's eats quickly, afraid of others noticing the earthy scent still surrounding him or that his hair is damp and matted against his forehead.

However, his day off takes an unexpected dreary turn when Hanji calls him to her office after dinner.

Just like Eren thought, they pop the question.

"Have you ever eaten human flesh?"

It takes them 4 days to man up since the experiment and now his little lie to Levi is about to grow into truth.

Eren answers honestly – no, he hasn't, and he's never had the urge to do that either and no, he would not like to try even if someone offers, regular food is perfectly satisfying, but their expressions don't waver.

"Do you think this is easy!? That I haven't had nightmares where I rip my friends apart, kill everyone dear to me? Do you think I asked to be like this?"

At some point the anger spills over his lips and his fists are shaking. His ears ring once the outburst is over and Hanji apologizes.

She looks so sincere, while Moblit is rigid and stares at him with wide eyes. She rushes to explain that it's nothing personal, just a theory she's working on.

He shies away from the pity and asks to be excused. They let him return to his room.

The accusation sits heavy in his gut for the rest of the day, nibbles away at his thoughts and twists everything out of context to fit the frame of what if.

And for a second he pictures it, the image so startlingly vivid in his mind that it takes Eren's breath away, because what if he was capable of doing something as brutal as the titans did but in his human form.

It lasts only for a morsel of time before he pushes the vision away, but it follows him like a ghost, trails in his footsteps.

Later that evening Eren finds himself wondering. His bruised pride has healed up and the offending assumptions are a mere droplet in the sea by now.

He wonders when had humans become superior, what makes them so, when they consist of the same organic matter as animals and the same glimmer of life lights up their eyes. And the thoughts leave a dirty imprint on his mind because Eren's used to morals streaked in black and white, right and wrong. Now there's gray seeping into him and he doesn't know on which side it goes, where to place it.

It feels like whoever has the best excuse and most influence is also the one with privilege to draw the line between what's good and what's bad. And only now he recognizes that ever since the court case his superiors are fighting for that privilege, for the right to place him into one of two categories – safe or dangerous. Eren has no right to decide at all.

It's far too confusing, too philosophical, and Eren doesn't like dwelling on things like that, you couldn't _do_ anything about them, and the helplessness makes his limbs tingle with anxiety.

Armin could answer him, he's the one who's good at seeing the big picture and drawing conclusions, but even he wouldn't be able to give a comforting answer. Eren knows he's right.

He turns to his side and faces the wall. The light cast by an oil lamp flickers even in the still air, and warm orange shadows lick away at the cobblestone, but he can no longer muster up the energy to push himself out of the bed to turn it off. Technically, he should do it, fire hazard and all. But his room has no windows, and fumbling in the dark to light it up again isn't favorable.

The castle sinks into silence so deep that even Eren's consciousness is suppressed by the sound of his heart pumping blood, the beat slow and hypnotic.

He wakes to the same sound resonating in his head, increased tenfold.

There's sweat and something sickeningly sweet, familiar tasting on his chapped lips and Eren realizes he must be awake.

At first his eyelids feel as if glued shut, he has to force them open. He gasps for breath and a thin whirl of steam enters his lungs.

Something is missing, and it's not the half forgotten dream that's clawing at the edges of his memory, so desperate to blanket him in the hazy comfort of sleep yet again.

He's awake, with nerve endings on fire, because it _hurts_, everything's sticky from sweat, and he can feel something sliding down his throat – a large, smooth chunk.

It leaves a warm, bittersweet trail on the back of his tongue and Eren doesn't know whether to retch or swallow, because he has no idea what it is.

He swallows and saliva rushes into his mouth, spreading the coppery taste along his gums.

As if some force is propelling him to do it, without looking down Eren slides his fingers along his arm, toward the spot from which the pain radiates, until they reach a ragged edge on his left forearm.

For a second he thinks that something must be stuck on it, he's itching to rip it off, but once his fingertips dip into something much softer, smoother and wet, Eren realizes he'd only be further ripping his own skin off.

He looks down and his breath stops. Even the pain dulls as he turns toward the source of light to see better.

The light penetrates the whirls of steam rising from his flesh and a gaping wound is revealed, bright and angry. He can see dull yellow peeking through and even in dim light it contrasts starkly against the dark red.

It feels unreal, looks unreal, too raw and open and impossible, because he isn't screaming in pain.

Eren's sure it's a hallucination until he slides his fingers over to the bone that's peeking through the flesh, it's smoother than the rest of the wound, and no hallucination could be this real.

Out of thin air muscles grow to cover it yet again.

It's mesmerizing.

For the first time he really sees what's hidden inside of him and he thinks it's unfair, that something this stunning is hidden under layers of skin.

He wakes up hours later, someone's banging on the door, telling him to get up and that sleeping in is not acceptable. He vaguely recognizes the voice, but it feels like he hasn't slept a wink so he just presses his face against the pillow and wills the voice away.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices the white sheets are stained with splotches of red and Eren jolts upright.

For a moment his mind whirls and buzzes, piecing everything together, and the realization hits him like an iron fist in the stomach, because he knows. He remembers. And there's only explanation as to why the stains could be there.

There's another bang on the door and he manages a hoarse _'just a second!' _before climbing out of the bed so fast he nearly lands face first on the floor.

He does the first thing he can think of – rips the covers off, bunches them up and slides them under the bed. Assured that they're not visible from the doorway, Eren pulls his day clothes on in record time.

Upon opening the door he's met with Levi's disgruntled face, arms crossed over his chest while gray eyes rake over his disheveled form.

The older man scrunches his nose and looks like he's about to make some nasty remark, but decides against it.

He settles for "you're on latrine duty," and maybe there's also something that sounds like 'good–morning' under his breath, but it's washed away by Eren's groan.

Levi shoots him a look over his shoulder, "and it better be pristine."

Eren nods stiffly. Normally he never objects to any kind of chores, he understands that someone has to do it and everyone's on rotation for them, so it's not like they're trying to make him do the literally shitty ones on purpose. But it feels like he has barely slept and exhaustion creeps into his body.

He trudges alongside Levi to the mess hall, feet dragging against the stone steps.

After nearly knocking over Armin's bowl of porridge at breakfast Eren is sure that the lack of quality sleep is taking a toll him.

There's an odd sensation in his arm, pins and needles, like a phantom pain that isn't supposed to be there, and it dulls his focus.

His thoughts keep winding back to when he had woken up during the night and he can't bring himself to pay attention to his surroundings.

Eren's stomach convulses, as if reminding him of the unorthodox midnight snack and suddenly the scent of bread and porridge makes nausea rise up. He wonders what it tasted like, but he can't remember and it bothers him.

If he refuses to eat anything or left without eating at all, it would raise concern. And remembering the blood stained sheets that were currently collecting dust under his bed, Eren's sure concern will easily spiral into suspicion.

"Hey, Eren."

He has to find out who's on laundry duty. They're bound to notice and Eren can't let that happen. No one can find out. Was today laundry day, even?

"Eren, are you listening? Guys, told you I was right–"

The aluminum spoon is about to bend under his fingers from the force he's applying when Eren finally snaps his head up.

Jean is positively leering at him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He has attracted the attention of everyone around the table. They're looking at him, as if waiting for something to happen or for Eren to say something.

"What?" He pushes out, trying not to sound irritated, because that will just please Jean way too much and right now he has issues much more pressing than aggressive banter over breakfast.

"I asked you, and I'm sure everyone else is also wondering," Jean glances around the table and is spurred on by their slackened jaws, as if they can't believe he'll really say it, "if you had a wild night yesterday because you sure look the part."

Connie looks like he's about to wet himself while Sasha has even abandoned wolfing down her breakfast in favor of watching the ongoing charade.

So they're talking about him behind his back, from the looks of it.

Armin is about interject, but Eren beats him to it, voice louder than intended, "The fuck you're on about, Kirschtein?"

A sickening feeling pools in his gut. What if Jean knows? It doesn't matter how or why, whether he has spent the night with his eyes glued to the keyhole of Eren's door or he's about to stab in the dark about something, Eren still can't risk it.

He has to shut him up. Hanji's the only one paying attention to what's going on at their table, but if she ever finds out... Eren doesn't want to entertain the possibility.

"You sure as hell look like you haven't slept last night," the grin on Jean's face is spreading, "in one sense of the word anyway," he's obviously getting a kick out of this and Eren curses himself for not being able to school his face into cold indifference.

The prickling sensation in his arm is getting stronger and Eren's afraid that somehow there would be perfect imprints of his teeth marring the skin there, that suddenly the secret he himself had yet to come to terms with would be out for everyone to see.

Damn that face pisses him off.

Eren bites his lip, trying to stay quiet, because for once he's sure that keeping his mouth shut is for the best. Jeans wants him to react, play right into his hands for his entertainment. As if Eren being the resident freak isn't enough.

He wants to rip that smug face right off its skull, rip it to shreds.

The thought is so sudden and violent that his fists itch and the spoon begins to bend under his fingers. Eren's eyes meet Jean's dead on for a second and hesitation pulls the corners of his mouth down, something akin to fear ghosts over his features.

But looks like the birdbrain is not about to back down, already opening his mouth to finish whatever accusations he wants to throw at Eren.

To everyone's surprise, he's interrupted by Armin, who's suddenly standing up and directing a stern look at Jean.

"Can you knock it off for once? Just let us have breakfast in peace. If you have anything to say to Eren, you can do it later."

His voice is calm and level, the air around them feels still and tense before Jean dissolves it with a dismissing shrug.

But he listens, relaxes in his seat, albeit not before gifting Eren another dirty smirk.

"Well, if princess Arlert wishes so, who am I to disagree?" He laughs.

An ugly pang of jealousy hits Eren as he watches Armin give a small smile. The blond isn't even offended by the words. Since when had those two become so chummy? He hadn't noticed.

Slowly their table returns to the usual morning chatter, but Eren is still glued to his seat, stiffness trickling into his limbs as Jean's words echo in his head.

Just what the fuck did he mean by all that – wild night, hadn't slept, everyone wondering about something that apparently concerns Eren?

He'd punch it out him if needed. In private.

"Forget it, Eren," Mikasa's voice is barely audible, she doesn't want anyone else to overhear. "We're just worried about you."

He wants to ask her just what does she mean by it, but his foster sister points out that his food is getting cold, effectively ending their one-sided conversation.

Eren has no choice but to grit his teeth and force down the lukewarm mush. The bread tastes like ash on his tongue.

As they exit the hall Armin tries to strike up conversation, touches his shoulder lightly, but it feels foreign.

Eren limits his replies to affirmative grunts, eyes fixed straight ahead. They'd have to part ways soon enough since Eren doesn't have the same training regime as the rest of them.

He's grown so used to being apart from his friends, but seeing Armin's shoulders slouch in defeat elicits a nagging guilt.

He doesn't have the time or energy to dwell on it, but it still lingers in the back of his mind, heavy and uncomfortable.

It eats away at his focus and only 20 minutes into training he's already face down on the ground, mouth full of dirt.

It's already the third time Levi's knocked him down. The split lip has already healed by the time he gets up and dusts off his pants, but being on the receiving end of Levi's swift kicks still has him winded.

"You're not even trying to block, am I wasting my time here?" Levi has taken a step back and Eren can feel the steel gaze digging into him.

He can't focus on sparring and out of all things this frustrates him the most because he's usually good at this, but Levi's not even breaking a sweat while Eren is covered in dirt head to toe.

Finally his breath evens out and Eren straightens his back, but wishes he had kept staring at the ground because Levi is looking at him expectantly. Obviously he can sense something is off. He's waiting for an explanation, and this is one Eren just can't voice. He knows apologizing will just worsen his superior's mood even further, so he diverts his eyes.

A few beats of agonizing silence pass.

"Go run some fucking laps."

Eren's both relieved and disappointed.

"Yes, sir!" He turns on his heel and sprints off.

He doesn't count the laps when running, all he knows is that a pleasant ache is setting into his muscles as Eren pushes his legs to carry him around the training field, and that with every drop of sweat that rolls down his back, he feels more at ease.

Once he stops and tries to get his racing heartbeat under control by taking calm breaths, Levi is already behind him, arms crossed and waiting for them to continue.

He doesn't even give the boy a break, instead working him constantly. Eren's thankful for that.

An hour later Eren is completely beat, legs feeling like jelly and he knows that tomorrow his arms are going to ache just because he felt like beating Levi at the amount of push-ups he could do.

The rest of the day passes so quickly that he doesn't really have time to think about the dirty sheets under his bed or what Jean had meant to tell him at breakfast. He hasn't had the chance to talk to either him or Armin.

By the time Eren's done with latrine duty he's dizzy from the disinfectant fumes (he's sure this stuff should be illegal and that Levi has smuggled it in).

They finally have two hours of free time and Eren goes straight to his room, hoping for a nice nap, but instead he finds Armin leaning against the door, waiting.

"Oh, Eren, I was hoping you'd come here!"

He nods slowly. He's sure that Armin has enough tact not to barge into his room without permission.

"Something the matter?"

"I wanted to explain, you know, about what happened at breakfast," Armin looks slightly uncomfortable.

"What about it? Wasn't it just Jean being dick like he always is?"

"Don't say that. He's actually really okay if you get to know him, Eren. And he didn't mean any harm, he just cares about you, we all do."

Armin's voice has a desperate edge to it, he's probably run those words through his head a thousand times.

Eren's tired already, he doesn't get where all this is going, so he leans against the wall and huffs in impatience. If Armin's staging an intervention about him being more taciturn then might as well get it over with it.

"Just spit it out."

The blond fidgets, suddenly nervous.

Not an intervention then.

"I'm going out with Jean," he blurts out, looking like he's said something he didn't mean to, "but that's beside the point! It's not what I wanted to talk about with you!" Armin tries to correct himself, waving a hand dismissively, but it's too late.

"What!? Just what are you thinking, he's a douchebag and only wants to use you!" Anger bubbles up again as suddenly it makes sense why Armin spoke up during breakfast, something that otherwise wouldn't be something he'd do.

"Fuck this, I'm going to go have a word with him," Eren sneers, it's obvious that Armin would only try to protect Jean.

He's already turning around, ready to go straight to Jean's room (which, with dread he realizes, is shared with Armin), but there's a hand on his wrist, pulling Eren back with more force than needed.

"Please, listen to me, Eren! He's just worried about you like the rest of us, you haven't been yourself lately – you never talk to us, you always look tired."

Eren doesn't want to turn around and face his friend because he can hear Armin's voice breaking.

"We just want our friend back! The only person you ever interact with is Captain Levi, and Jean made the assumption that you two were... you know. He was ready to put that in a rude way, you know how he is, but even if you two are together then it's okay with the rest of us, really! It just doesn't mean that you have to distance yourself from us. You're even dismissing Mikasa, she's feeling really down about it."

It all just rolls past Armin's lips in one breath after being bottled up for ages.

Eren turns to face him, eyes wide in surprise. "Oh. So that's what you think," his tongue is itching to say every horrible thing that's on his mind right now, there isn't anyone else to push it out on.

He tries, he tries so hard to collect himself and calm down.

"Eren, please talk to me," Armin's hand is still gripping his wrist but loosens, instead clasping his hand in a more gentle way.

His anger turns sour and bitter as quick as it had surfaced.

"The fuck do you want to hear? I'm sure you're fine with Jean and eventually Mikasa will also find a replacement for me, so just drop it, okay?"

Eren's voice is quiet and he's staring somewhere past Armin, and it breaks the boy's heart, because he doesn't know what to do. Armin opens his mouth to say something else, but barely gets a few syllables past his lips before Eren interrupts him.

"I'm tired. I want to go rest, tell Mikasa I'm okay, just busy with training, that's all." He finally pulls his hand out of Armin's grasp and puts it on the door handle to his room.

"Let's talk later, okay?" It's a measly attempt at fixing things up.

Armin's shoulders slouch and he shrinks into himself, nodding even if he doesn't agree one bit. He has a nagging feeling that Eren won't talk to him, or anyone else for that matter.

Eren waits for his friend to round the corner toward the stairs that lead to the upper floors of the castle before slipping into his room.

He lets out a long breath. With Armin gone all of what he said rushes back, hitting him tenfold.

It's frustrating – he can't tell Armin that Hanji Zoe has been cutting him up and rummaging through his insides. Mikasa would go on an insane rampage.

So he can't explain why he's being gloomier than usual, and Armin's words actually come as a surprise to him because Eren hasn't noticed any change whatsoever in his personality.

He wants to find an immediate solution to this, but keeps drawing a blank when he thinks about it.

Eren pushes himself away from the door, ready to crash in his bed and make up for the lost sleep.

The fresh linens smell of soap, smooth against his face and ease his mind for a split second before he realizes that the sheets are on his bed.

Eren jolts up, panic coursing through him. Today's laundry day.

He jumps off the bed and crouches down. There's nothing under his bed – empty.

"Fuck!" He mutters and runs his hand through the already messy locks of hair.

Someone had seen this. What did they think? Would they go and tell a superior?

Surely if they intended to tell anyone then they'd do it right away. Who would they tell?

Levi. He's the one directly in charge of him.

Sleep is the last thing on Eren's mind as he pulls the door open again. He has no idea where the man is and the castle is huge.

Levi's office is on the fourth floor, private quarters on the third. If he catches him before anyone tells then he could give an excuse, fix this somehow.

Eren doesn't even know why he's so worried about this – it's just sheets stained with blood. If it were anyone else then surely an excuse could be made, like he had a nosebleed in his sleep. Except no one could bleed this much in their sleep. The sheets looked more like someone had been murdered there.

He runs up the stairs two steps at a time and nearly knocks Hanji off her feet, who's making her way down.

"Wow, easy Eren!" She steadies him by gripping his shoulders. "What's the rush? Set something on fire?"

Eren needs to take a second to regain his breath. "No, everything's fine, I'm just..." he pauses, staring at her. He could simply ask her where Levi is, surely she'd know. But he's almost at the fourth floor already and could just find the man by himself.

"Looking for Levi. There was something I wanted to ask him."

Hanji raises her eyebrows, but doesn't comment on it.

"I think he's in the kitchen helping with dinner," she says, adjusting the stack of papers under her arm.

She reads the surprise on Eren's face and gives a short laugh, "you know, with the... shortage on people everyone's gotta do something to help." Her tone turns a tad bitter, but she tries to fix it with a smile.

It's true that not everyone permanently lives in the headquarters and lately there have been less and less people here.

"Alright then, thank you," Eren says before making his way back down, not running this time since Hanji's walking with him. They part ways on the second floor stairwell.

He peeks inside the kitchen door and Levi is there, hunched over two buckets – one for peeled potatoes and the other for ones yet to be cleaned.

Eren still hasn't figured out what to say, so he simply stands there, not sure how to approach the subject.

It doesn't look like Levi's noticed him either, instead working on the potatoes. His fingers move with surprising lack of dexterity and if the circumstances would have been different then Eren would be slightly amused at the sight of humanity's strongest peeling potatoes with such an intense look on his face.

"Do you plan on staring the whole day or find something better to do?"

Levi doesn't turn to face him and Eren flushes, noticed after all. He walks slowly toward the man, still trying to think of how to put this.

Armin's words ring in his mind – apparently some people thought Levi and him were a thing. It seemed ridiculous, but now that he was looking at the man, also somewhat flattering.

"Did you want something?" Levi finally looks up at him, face as stoic as always.

"I was wondering who's on laundry duty? There was something on my bed and I can't find it anymore." The lie rolls off his tongue with surprising ease.

Levi halts his actions and straightens his back. "You came here just to ask that?" He pauses, thinking. "Kirschstein and Springer were on it, but I'm not sure. Ever cross your ditzy head to check the chore list that's on the mess hall door?"

Eren holds in the sigh of relief but his shoulders visibly relax. Levi doesn't know. If he did then he'd speak up about it.

"Thank you, sir!" He feels dumb for not checking the list; it had completely fled his mind that there was one in the first place.

He's almost at the door when Levi speaks up again.

"Hey."

Eren turns around."Yes?"

"An awful lot of free time you've got there if you're checking whether others are doing their chores right. And there's a shitload of potatoes here."

He can't tell if Levi is dismissing him, judging him for dilly-dallying or if it's an invitation to help.

Eren bites his lip, unsure of what to say.

"Do you want me to help?" Any other day he wouldn't have minded at all, he liked to keep his hands busy, but he had other things to take care of right now.

Levi sighs and shoots him a look that conveys the _'are you deaf or what'_ better than words could.

"Grab a knife and get your ass over here."

There's no way to escape it now. Hunting down Jean and Connie would have to wait until after dinner. So Eren drags one of the kitchen stools over, knife in the other hand, and is about to get to work whether he wants it or not.

He almost forgets to wash his hands first, and that would surely get his commanding officer in a mood pissier than if he knew about those bloody sheets, Eren would bet his arm on that. So he scrubs them soft and pink before sitting down and grabbing a potato.

"So what's got you in such a hurry? I'm sure that whatever you can't find in your room is still there and you just didn't notice." Levi says casually after a few minutes of silence have passed.

"It's nothing."

"Then you wouldn't be acting as if walking on coals."

Eren grimaces and peers up at the older man, but he can't read anything from his features.

"If you wanted to interrogate me you could've said so, no need to make me peel potatoes," Eren pauses before adding, "Sir."

He's verging on sounding offensive, but his tongue is quicker than his brain can catch up. But Levi's not bothered by it.

"It was obvious as hell that you were about to rush out there and do something reckless. Sit down and think about it instead, whatever it might be, you don't have to tell me. But you're not getting into any fights if I can help it."

Is his face really that much of an open book? Eren's mouth is set into a straight line as he returns to working on the vegetable and cuts deeper than intended.

Levi sounds like he cares. Not in the way that Mikasa or Armin would, but it's still there. It's odd.

Eren doesn't respond, instead focusing on working. He peeks at Levi's hands every now and then and notices that two of his fingers have band-aids on them.

Part of him wants to point it out, say something like 'you're not very good at this', but he's reminded that the man sitting in front of him is his superior so Eren keeps his mouth shut.

The silence isn't uncomfortable either.

Gradually his thoughts drift away from Jean. He's not good at coming up with plans of action and will probably just go with his gut when the time to confront him comes. And it won't be just about the sheets. No way he's going to let someone that aggressive take advantage of Armin.

Instead he remembers the time right after the experiment, when Levi had come to see him.

He remembers the things he had said to the man, the anger had twisted his tongue back then and he made Levi play into his hands, Eren had that itch to hurt him, hold him responsible. He still can't seem to muster up guilt about that.

Eren realizes that the urge hasn't gone anywhere.

In a sense he's even glad. If he can't keep his friends close anymore maybe he can keep Levi from straying too far.

They finish peeling the bucket of potatoes and he's sure that it would have taken Levi a much longer time to do on his own.

Before Eren can slip out of the kitchen a bunch of carrots are pushed toward him.

He ends up staying and helping out, even if it makes him grow restless.

Afterwards he barely has time to wash up before it's dinner, during which he has to stare at Jean's face and ignore the apologetic looks Armin is shooting him. To make it all worse Mikasa is sitting next to him and he can feel her steel stare laced with concern.

Eren finishes eating in record time, eager to get away.

Later he doesn't even have to look for Jean, he simply runs into him in the courtyard. The other teen is pulling up a bucket of water from the well and Eren walks toward him unnoticed.

"Hey," he speaks up, unsure of how to start this.

"Fuck, Yeager, can you not sneak up to people like a creep?" Jean jumps and whips around to face him.

Eren ignores the off-handed insult. Living in the same barracks for years with him has rendered him immune to rudeness.

"Can we talk?"

"What is it? Just be quick, I have better things to do."

"Walk with me." Eren cocks his head to the pathway that leads out of castle grounds. Whatever this confrontation will lead to, he doesn't want it to happen out here where anyone could interrupt them.

Jean's hesitates, casts a look around the courtyard, but no one else is there, it's just the of them here. He doesn't really want to go, he's past the mindless head-butting with Eren and knows Armin would dislike it.

"Why can't we talk here?" The taller boy finishes pulling up the bucket and sets it on the stone edge of the well before straightening his back.

"I don't want someone to overhear, it won't take long."

Eren is already walking away, waiting for Jean to follow and sure that he will.

The other is quick to catch up and match his pace to Eren's.

"If this is about those sheets in your room then no one else besides Connie and I know and we haven't told anyone, I don't even want to know what you did there, it's your business," Jean says, hoping that this is why Eren wants to talk to him.

"I know you won't," is all Eren says and falls silent.

The deeper into the forest they go the more afternoon shadows loom over them. There's only few hours of daylight left and everything's painted in warm tones, almost inviting.

"So what did you want to talk about? You drag me out here and don't even–"

"Why are you dating Armin?" His voice is low and there's an underlying threat lurking there.

Jean huffs."So that's what this is about? Because I like him. And he deserves people who care about him, not ones that abandon him."

Jean has a feeling that he might have crossed a line here, but Eren doesn't respond, only fueling his frustration.

"It's all I ever hear – Eren this and Eren that, it's fucking annoying! You don't deserve friends like Armin or Mikasa, I don't get why they care so much about you."

All of the nasty thoughts that he had kept bottled up while listening to Armin's worries now spill over his lips, he doesn't even think twice about saying them out loud.

"You only ever make them worry, you push them away! You don't even give a shi–"

Jean's words are cut off by Eren's fist connecting to his temple as he whips around and hits him without holding back.

Jean doesn't see it coming and falls, his balance thrown off completely.

Eren doesn't wait for him to get up, instead delivering the second blow right to his solar plexus. He doesn't feel one bit bad about kicking someone who's down.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarls through gritted teeth.

Jean's sputtering for breath but is already trying to get back on his feet. His fist aimed for Eren's jaw misses, vision still fuzzy.

"Don't like it when faced with the truth, do you? Selfish prick–" Eren doesn't let him finish, instead jabbing him swiftly in the throat, making the teen gasp for breath again.

He's using dirty moves and Jean hasn't anticipated that at all. Whenever they ended up fighting there would still be some kind of courtesy, some etiquette.

This is different.

Eren tackles him and Jean gets a mouthful of dirt as he's pressed face first into dirt. He manages to elbow Eren in the stomach and gain some leverage, but there's dust in his eyes and his head is swimming with the promise of a concussion. He grabs the lapels of Eren's shirt and head-butts the teen with the best of his ability.

He uses the opportunity to roll them over and straddle Eren's waist while driving his fist into the face below him so hard that Jean swears he can feel the teeth dislodging.

It doesn't stop him, Jean keeps hitting – his cheeks, nose, jaw, eyes – everything in sight until he runs out of breath and Eren is lying still on the ground.

Jean's chest heaves and he sits back, the momentary adrenaline rush is slowly fading away and he looks at Eren's completely battered face. His nose is gushing blood and it sits at an odd angle, probably broken. His breathing sounds odd, wheezing. Both bottom and upper lips are split, there's a cut on his forehead.

He's still not moving and Jean's afraid he might have hurt him too badly, but steam soon begins to rise from the bloodied face and he's transfixed at the sight.

Eren spits out a bloodied lump that once might have been a tooth or a piece of his tongue that he had bitten off. He cracks one eye open and the swelling begins to subdue as quickly as it had emerged.

"You can't do anything to me," Eren's voice has risen a pitch and it sounds manic.

"Fuck you, you're sick in the head." Jean's knees feel weak as he pushes himself to stand up.

"Just stay away from me! And Armin!" He spits and slowly backs away from the teen, as if Eren would pull some move on him as soon as he wasn't looking.

And he's right, Eren moves so quickly that he can barely register it, but his head meets the ground again and by now Jean's sure it's bleeding. The shitstain kicked his ankles hard.

It only adds to his reeling head and after he blinks dazedly Eren is already looming over him, elbows pressed next to his face.

Eren spits the remaining blood in his mouth on Jean's face unceremoniously.

He can see the haze in the boy's eyes. The wince graces his face slowly as he tries to turn his head away from the red tinted saliva still dripping down on him.

The gravitation of the situation slowly sinks in and Jean tries to crawl his way out of underneath him, but fails to do so. Eren's sitting on his stomach and he's too heavy to move.

His limbs feel like jelly and he can only push against Eren's chest weakly.

Eren doesn't know what to do, because the urge is back and it's drawing him in, encompassing his every nerve and muscle cell. The same awe blankets him as when he had seen his own arm ripped to shreds, knowing that he was the one who did it. That he was the source of this raw violence.

He pulls back and places his hands on Jean's face, forcing him to look at him straight on.

"I'm going to break your shoulder and your knee."

The words take a while to sink in, and Eren waits patiently. Soon enough Jean begins to scramble, fear more evident in his face than ever, his eyes widen and Eren can feel Jean's muscles quivering underneath him. It's exhilarating.

He drags it out, waits for Jean to try and get him off.

Jean reaches up and aims for his throat. He tries to kick the boy off of him, but it's hard to focus when Eren's hands are holding his head in a steel grip.

His punches have gained strength, panic must be running through his veins, Eren's sure of it – he can smell it.

Eren crouches above him slowly, making sure that Jean can feel his every movement and the anticipation that's building.

He flips him over, knee immediately pressed between his shoulder blades to keep the teen from moving, yet Jean is still putting up an admirable struggle, but Eren barely registers the punch to his stomach.

Pain is useless against him. Hanji Zoe has ensured that. It no longer hinders the clarity of his thoughts, the opposite, even – it enhances everything, colors and sounds are more vivid than ever and he can see everything.

But when he wraps his hands around Jean's upper arm and pulls, Eren almost misses feeling pain like he used to, because the sound that escapes Jean's throat is so raw and good that it sends a jolt of pleasure down his back.

He makes it slow, gradually increasing the strength applied until he can hear the joint pop. Jean's screams have turned into a mantra of pleading help. Eren pushes his face deeper into the dirt to muffle his voice before slamming his knee down on the wrecked shoulder.

He revels in the feeling of bone crushing under his strength, it makes his breath hitch.

Eren leans close to Jean's ear to make sure he can hear his words loud and clear,"I changed my mind, I'm not going to break your knee, I'm going to let you run."

He can hear Jean's heart beating painfully fast.

"But you have to run toward the woods. And you have to be quiet. Else I will rip your tongue out."

His hand runs through Jean's hair in a soothing motion and he stays there for a moment, unmoving and solid against the crippled body underneath him.

Eren stands up. The thrill of whether Jean would be stupid enough to follow his instructions makes his even more excited. He doesn't care. Jean's not getting out of this, not after saying all those things, he just can't go unpunished.

Jean is slow, he tries to crawl away from Eren before getting on his knees. His must be really dizzy.

He glances behind him to look at Eren, who's simply standing there, relaxed, as if he's just out on an evening stroll.

He knows he has to run.

The pain from his shoulder echoes painfully in his chest and it feels like one of his lungs has collapsed, but Jean still gets up. He staggers, balance thrown off because one of his arms is now limp and useless, a mere chunk of flesh and bone attached to his frame.

He nearly falls back to the ground from the pain, but manages to stay upright by sheer will, legs working faster now as he begins to run – it's at the pitiful pace of a leisurely jog and Eren can't suppress the laughter bubbling in his chest.

"The other way, you're not supposed to run toward the castle, you idiot!" Eren reminds him. He still hasn't moved an inch and Jean is good three meters ahead of him.

"If you run there I'll be able to see where you go," he raises his voice to make sure Jean can hear him. And he does. The boy stops dead in his track, arm swaying ineptly next at his side.

"If you run in the woods then I'll count to... let's say fifteen, fifteen's a good number, right?" He begins walking toward Jean in long, confident strides.

"You might be hoping for someone to help if you get back to the castle, but that's not going to stop me. I'm good as fucked now anyway, aren't I?" Eren realizes that he is indeed completely fucked whether anyone finds out about this or not only when he says it out loud and it makes his voice quiver.

But he's already next to Jean, who's still glued to the spot and breathing heavily. So there's no changing it, there are no amends here to be made.

"One."

Jean jerks away from him, still staring at him with eyes wide in shock.

"You can't get away with doing this," the malice put into his voice would be admirable if not for the fear coating it.

"Two."

His eyes dart past Eren, trying to find a trail, anywhere to run.

Eren raises his hand and points to the left side of the road, where the forest is thicker before mouthing _'three'_.

Jean breaks out into a sprint and Eren's eyes follow him carefully.

"Four."

He nearly trips over a root and presses his hand against the nearest tree trunk to steady himself.

"Five," Eren watches Jean make his way through the trees. He's really slow. Maybe fifteen was unfair after all, maybe he should've made it an even thirty.

"Six."

Jean is running right where Eren wants him to, probably hoping to make a turn somewhere that would lead him back to the castle. But Eren knows of the hill that will either force him to take a detour or round his way back eventually.

"Seven."

He would get tired very, very soon. Couldn't run far with a concussion. And soon the adrenalin would wear off and the pain would only increase tenfold.

Eren raises his voice now, nearly yelling. "Eight."

He doesn't care that anyone could hear him, there's not a smidgen of hesitation or nervousness in him. Because he's doing the right thing – taking care of Jean.

"Nine."

He can't let Jean drive Mikasa and Armin away from him.

"Ten."

He knows it would just be the beginning. After corrupting his closest friends Jean would plant the seed of doubt into everyone's mind.

"Eleven."

They would become more and more suspicious of Eren, and it's bullshit, disgusting lies Jean had said about keeping quiet about the sheets. At some point it would come to light.

"Twelve."

So he has to take him out. No one will really cry about him. Marco's dead already. Eren's doing him a favor.

Armin will probably cry but Eren will fix this, he'll take care of everything, he'll take back his place next to his friends and all of this will go away along with Jean.

"Thirteen."

There's energy coursing through his body, a kind he has never yet felt before. It's power. Right now, Jean belongs to him.

"Fourteen."

He can't see the other's back anymore, but it doesn't bother Eren. He knows he'll find him.

Eren runs, faster than he's ever had in his life and the force of it takes his breath away.

'_Fifteen.'_


End file.
